


the rest is still unwritten

by mutemelody



Series: this is where our story begins [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety, Developing Friendships, First Day of School, Gen, I mean Virgil is in it so-, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Themes, it's really light though it's just in passing mention, literally i didn't even read this over properly im so sorry, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19166641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemelody/pseuds/mutemelody
Summary: He lets himself drift over. “Is this seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the seat across from the other teenager.The boy startles slightly, yanking a headphone out of one ear, “Uh, no.”Patton smiles, “Thank you.” He says before sitting down. "Hey, do you know what a chalk board’s favorite drink is?”“What?”“Hot chalk-olate.” He says smoothly, and Virgil’s lips twitch slightly after a moment. Success. “I’m Patton, by the way."[Or, it's the first day of school. Roman, Patton, and Logan are embarking on their junior year as a closely-knit trio, but when Patton makes friends with the new student, their group gets a fourth.]





	the rest is still unwritten

**Author's Note:**

> I literally did not intend to become so into Sanders Sides, I swear. But instead of studying for finals last night, I found myself literally constructing four fake high school schedules for these dorks, so...
> 
> [Title is from Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield]
> 
> [Note: If you see this work on any app or website outside of AO3 or any of the accounts listed in my profile, then it is being used without my consent and I heavily implore you to not support that app or website. Thank you.]

He gets to school almost an hour before its scheduled to begin. He has a paper copy of his schedule in one hand and his phone in the other. If he turned it on, it would reveal his lock screen, which may or may not be currently a picture of his electronic copy of his schedule. It’s just in case he loses the paper, or he can’t get to it quickly, or-

Or his anxiety tells him the paper is wrong, so he has to look at the _exact same thing_ just via another medium.

 _Deep breaths._ He tells himself mentally, pushing through the side doors to the school. He gives his eyes a moment to look over the various pride flags hanging in the atrium, proud and unafraid, and lets himself take some of that confidence as he walks through the large open space.

There are some other kids there already - two boys standing off to the side, one leaning his head on the other’s shoulder. There’s a teenager by the water fountain scrolling through their phone with a shirt that prounounces them as nonbinary loudly. A quick glance down what must be a music hallway shows a dozen or so kids in various stages of awareness, all talking and laughing to each other.

He takes a deep breath and walks on by. He _knew_ this school was going to be different going in. Sanders’ High School was famous for how loudly proud and inclusive it was, and not in that fake, superficial name. It was _founded_ by a gay man, and the vast majority of the staff were members of the LGBT+ community, if not all. Bullying, prejudice, or anything of the sort were simply _not tolerated._

Which is why he’s going here, after all. Dad wanted to make sure that the bullying was gone, that Virgil knew he was safe now. It was just one step his adoptive dad was making in trying to fix all the years of trauma Virgil had from having shitty birth parents. To try and get him to realize that he cared about Virgil as much as he cared about his other son, because even if he’s had Virgil for less time (although they both were adopted), that doesn’t matter.

He swallows. _Don’t think about all that now. Just focus on finding the locker._

He’s on the first floor, one of the few juniors for that to be true for because of his last name, Corcoran, being so high up the alphabet. Usually the seniors are the only ones on the first floor, but he must have just gotten lucky.

Hah. Lucky. _Him._ That’d be a first.

(Although, so would a school year without abuse from peers or adults, and now that’s actually a possibility for him.)

He finds his locker eventually, tall and unassuming. One among all the others. He holds the lock in his hand that he had gotten a week ago, along with his schedule. He knows the combination by heart, had spent last night obsessing over it even though he had learned it right when it had been handed to him. He still locks it in his hand and opens it one more time to assure himself that he knows it. It clicks open easily.

He sighs, then puts his backpack down and opens the locker. He hesitates, unsure of what books he should put inside. They have a passing time, but what if there’s not enough time for him to get to his locker and back to class without being late? Some of his classes are on the third floor, or the other corner of the school. Should he put any books in at all? Sure, it would be heavy, but he’d get used to carrying around the textbooks eventually-

 _Steady breaths._ He reminds himself, before withdrawing some books. He’s just being over-anxious. Last night he’d talked to his brother and made up a plan on how to get to his locker without being late. He’d gone over it several times, using a map of the school  to plan out when he should go to his locker and when he simply wouldn’t have time.

He has a _plan._ Plans, actually. He needs to stay calm, and remember what dad tells him. It’s the first day of school, it’s okay to be anxious. Everyone’s going to be anxious. It’s okay, he’s _okay._

He shuts the locker, locks it, checks that he remembers the combination once more, before locking it again. After checking that he’s locked it once more, he pulls his noticeably lighter backpack back up over one shoulder before looking at his schedule.

He’s got English first. Second floor.

He also has over half an hour before class starts, so there’s a chance the teacher isn’t even here yet. He doesn’t want to go up there just to find out the door’s locked. Or worse, catch the teacher right as they enter. That would be awkward.

It’d be even more awkward, actually, if they _were_ there. Most students probably don’t report to class until the last minute. If he goes now and the teacher is there, he’s dooming himself to an awkward forty minutes of sitting in silence with the teacher.

Yeah, _no._

He sighs, before withdrawing his headphones from his hoodie pocket. He hadn’t worn them entering the school, too anxious to want to deal with taking away one of his senses. But now he’s anxious in a different way, so he puts on a playlist and placing them in his ears. He makes his way back to the atrium, step by step, and sits leans against the wall away from few (but more than before) people also lingering there. He pulls out his phone, and tries to keep his breathing steady.

He can do this.

* * *

 

Roman’s brother drops him off to school early at his insistence, before heading out with a lazy half-salute in farewell. Usually Roman goes with his brother for the before-school coffee run, but today is different. Today’s the _first day._

He pulls out his phone quickly as he heads for the entrance, about to text them to announce his arrival, before stopping. They’ll doubtlessly be in their usual spot in the music hallway - a meeting spot due to its proximity to the entrance and the fact that Roman usually has to be present there in some capacity before and after school anyways - so a text will be unnecessary and only serve to ruin what could be a fantastically dramatic entrance.

He barely spares a glance to the few stragglers hanging out in the atrium before practically running down the hallway.

Sure enough, Logan and Patton are there, sitting with their backpacks. He can tell after only a second that they’re rehashing an old argument of theirs, where Patton eats his breakfast and Logan comments on how unsanitary the conditions are for him to do so.

“But my stomach hurts too much in the morning when I wake up, and if I wait long enough to eat it at home, I’ll lose time I could spend with you guys!” Patton cries out, before taking a bite of his bagel. Logan opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off when Patton sees Roman and the boy exclaims, “Roman!” With a full mouth.

“At least chew it properly,” Logan sighs tiredly, before looking up at Roman. “Greetings, Roman. How was your Theater Camp?”

“It was awesome!” He gushes, dropping down to sit next to them. Typically, they’d have spent the majority of summer vacation together. However, the last two weeks had been occupied by him attending a Theater Camp that he had been gifted entry to through the school’s musical department. He had had to lie to his parents a little bit to get them to let him go, but his brother had helped and they hadn’t looked too far into it, so it was all well. “You wouldn’t believe the talent people had there. There was this one fellow named Cameron Prince - I’ve never heard a falsetto like his.” He then grins and straightens slightly, “Not that he could compare to me.”

Patton elbows him playfully, “Of course, he’s only a prince after all. You’re a king.”

“Why are you back to making puns about our last names? I thought you got over this freshman year.” Logan says, his voice slightly exasperated.

Patton flashes him a smile, “Aw, Logan, it’s all _Wright.”_

Roman stifles a chuckle. Gosh, how’s he’s missed this.

“Although I have no evidence, I am still aware that you just made a pun with your own last name.”

“If you want, I can,” Patton pauses slightly, “ _Cato_ explain.”

“This is horrible. You must desist. The first day hasn’t even started yet. We haven’t even been able to compare schedules with Roman.”

“Oh yeah!” Roman says, digging through his backpack quickly to pull out a half-crumpled paper schedule. Logan produces his own color-coded copy from a binder while Patton simply reaches into his pocket and unfolds his. “Show me!”

“Well, it would appear that we all do share a good number of classes together, accounting for our different interests.” Logan says, his eyes darting between all the papers incredibly quickly while his hands move to take out a notebook and a pen. “If you give me a moment, I can produce a paper for you both that accurately depicts what classes and lunches we share.”

The two don’t reply, for they know that they don’t even need to. They had started out last year friends, and Logan had done the exact same thing despite their instances that he didn’t have to. They knew it was something Logan just _had_ to do - an itch that couldn’t be satisfied otherwise.

So they settle into easy chatter as Logan’s pen scratches across the page, and Roman feels like he’s come home more than he did when he actually arrived back at his house.

Because it’s _easy,_ here. It’s easy to be at a place where he knows he’ll be accepted readily and eagerly, rather than dismissed. It’s easy to be with Logan’s blunt nature and Patton’s eager energy. It’s easy to be here, be it on the stage in the impressive auditorium or in the hallways or in the classrooms.

Patton lets him theorize on what he thinks the musical’s going to be this year, and he listens to Patton excitedly ramble about the dog his dads got him. He’d have preferred a cat, Roman knows, but that was impossible due to his allergies. He’s soon cooing over several pictures of the young Australian Shepard.

Logan passes them each a piece of paper before the first warning bell rings. He’s eager to see the logical teen was right in that they had more classes than could be expected with their different interests, and that he only has two lunches without one of them out of the seven different schedules. It’s fine, though, he can just sit with some friends he has from the music department, or something. Or do his homework that’ll be due afterwards.

The latter is far more likely.

“We have first block together!” Patton exclaims, looking at Roman happily.

“It almost makes up for having math first one the first day,” Roman smiles.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad.” Patton says, before his eyes get that glint to them that _always_ proceeds one of his dad jokes. “Hey, what do you call a number that’s always wandering?”

“That is impossible. Numbers don’t physically move-” Logan starts, but Patton cuts him off with the skill of experience.

“A _roamin’_ numeral!”

Roman blinks. “Was that a _triple_ joke?”

Patton smiles and Logan sighs.

Yeah, he can do this.

* * *

 

Patton has lunch the first day without Roman or Logan, but that’s okay. He’d rather them have each other than without. Besides, they’re not the only people he knows in his grade. He’s a rather extroverted person, at the end of the day.

Still, despite the two tables that are full of people he knows, he finds himself gravitated to one that’s nearly empty. There’s only a single person there, who he thinks based on the sweatshirt that’s hiding most of their form, he just had chemistry with. Virgil, he can just place his name.

He lets himself drift over. “Is this seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the seat across from the other teenager.

The boy startles slightly, yanking a headphone out of one ear, and Patton feels bad for scaring him. Before he can apologize, though, Virgil replies, “Uh, no.”

Patton smiles, “Thank you.” He says, before sitting down. Virgil’s eyes widen slightly as he does so. Did he think he was just going to take the chair and move it over to another table? That’s silly. Why would he leave Virgil alone?

Hm. Oh well. He needs to introduce himself, and that means he needs to break the ice.

Thankfully, Patton’s pretty strong.

(Get it?)

“Hey, do you know what a chalk board’s favorite drink is?” He asks, and Virgil’s eyebrow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Hot _chalk_ -olate.” He says smoothly, and Virgil’s lips twitch slightly after a moment. Success. “I’m Patton, by the way. He/him pronouns. I think we just had chemistry together. Virgil, right?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, his eyes still slightly wide. One headphone still hangs from his left ear. “I, uh, use he/him too.”

“Nice to meet you Virgil! Are you new here? You are a junior, right? I’m sorry, I just can’t remember seeing you here before.” He asks, his voice light as he pulls out his packed lunch.

“Uh,” Virgil says, before blinking hard. He pulls out his other earbud, which Patton takes as a win. “Yeah, I’m new. I used to go to the other high school on the other side of the city.”

“Oh, cool! So you know the city still, then? That’s good. Moving’s hard. I moved once in fourth grade. My pop got a new job.” He says, allowing his easy stream-of-consciousness chatter to come out freely as he sees Virgil start to relax. He didn't seem too upset about switching schools, so it probably hadn’t been for a very nice reason. Poor kid. At least a parent or guardian switched him over so he’d be out of whatever situation that had been.

A thought suddenly hits him, and he asks “So, is anyone showing you around? You should have been assigned a buddy or something for your first day so you don’t get lost.”

“Oh, yeah, uh,” Virgil shifts uncertainty. “I remember being told about that, but I told my, um, guidance counselor I was okay. Didn’t want to bother anyone on their first day.”

“It’s not a bother at all!” Patton exclaims, surprised. “It’s your first day! The freshmen all have each other to go wandering around confused with. You need someone too.” An idea comes to mind. “Oh! I know. I’ll be your buddy. We already have chemistry together. What do you have next?”

“Oh, it’s fine. Really.” Virgil says, “I don’t want to make you late.”

Patton waves away the protest. “Really, it’s fine. I know this school like the back of my hand. And besides, it’s the first day. The teachers are okay with us being late.”

“Okay,” Virgil says, still uncertain, before checking his phone. “I have math next, then AP history, then French.” He then adds, “But we don’t have French today, right? We drop it.”

Patton looks at him with wide eyes, mentally going over his own schedule. That couldn’t be right...could it?

Virgil shifts again when Patton doesn’t reply after a moment, and Patton realized he hadn’t replied yet. “Do you have Mx. Hale?” He asks quickly.

“Uh, yeah.” Virgil says, checking his phone one more time. “Why-”

Patton reaches across the table and puts his hands on Virgil, practically vibrating with excitement. “We have history and French together! I mean, assuming you’re in the junior French class - there’s only one for our grade due to lack of people - and not some other class because of moving. Are you? Well, either way we have history together! _And_ chemistry! That’s great. I also have history with my other friends, Roman and Logan. They’re _wonderful_ and- oh, sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Patton says, smiling sheepishly.

Virgil didn’t reply, too busy staring at Patton’s hands over his own. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or panicked though, so Patton doesn’t remove them.

“It’s- It’s okay. I...just wasn’t expecting that.” Virgil says, the end of his sentence getting slightly drowned out as the bell rang.

“Oh! That’s us.” Patton bounces up, tucking his lunch away. He hadn’t eaten a lot in his eagerness, but that’s okay. He has cooking class now anyways, and he’s far too excited to be really hungry.

Another friend!!

“C’mon, Virgil, we have a math class to get you to!”

“Coming,” Virgil says, suddenly standing up. Patton frowns slightly to himself when he realizes that not only hadn’t Virgil eaten, but he hadn’t even had a lunch in front of him. He quickly dismisses the thought for later - it could just be first day jitters. As Logan would say, he can’t make a decision on limited data. Or something like that.

“Hey, who’s the king of the math classroom?” Patton asks, as the pair make their way out of the cafeteria.

“Uh, who?” Virgil asks, his eyes on the crowds, skimming across them as he grips his backpack a little tightly.

“Why, that’d be the ruler of course!” He completes, and notices that even if Virgil doesn’t laugh or smile or anything, his hand does loosen its grip slightly.

Okay, he can do this.

* * *

 

Logan has only one class with both Patton and Roman. It’s a nice change - typically he has no classes with both of his companions. He also has the additional benefit of having Advanced Placement Spanish with Roman. It is only two classes with people he can bear being around for an extended period of time, but it is adequate enough for him.

To be perfectly candid, he had not been expecting any classes with the two fellow teenagers. He was taking an Advanced Placement course for every class time offered, much to his guidance counselor’s discomfort. The woman was sufficient for her duty, but she did not seem to fully comprehend Logan. She had tried to dissuade him from his current path, believing he could not keep up with all the coursework.

Thankfully, he had been able to persuade her that he could, in fact, deal with the workload. Thus, he entered the year with a schedule full of Advanced Placement classes and low expectations of ever seeing his confidantes inside the classroom. They both only took one or two Advanced Placement courses themselves, afterall.

However, it seems that the processes that the school employed in order to fabricate schedules and classes for their students seemed to look upon them favorably. For here he now is, sitting in a desk besides Roman in his Advanced Placement United States History classroom, waiting for their third to make his appearance. Roman was guarding the desk behind him with an intense look in his eyes, occasionally flickering his eyes to the door in apprehension for Patton’s appearance.

“He should be here by now, right? He had cooking last block, and it’s just a quick walk up the stairs.” Roman informs Logan, as if he was unaware of the layout of the building he has called his educational center for the past two years.

“It is fine, Roman. I am sure he’s merely helping out the teacher with the clean-up process. It is in his nature to assist others.” He assures Roman, who does appear to calm down minutely at his words. Honestly, he does not comprehend why Roman is working himself up to this capacity over something so minor. The chances of Patton, who was in perfectly fine health when Logan saw him last, having to suddenly depart from school due to some form of malaise are rather small.

Sure enough, there Patton is. Rushing through the door approximately thirty-eight seconds (not that Logan was keeping track of how much time the boy had until he would be late) before the bell rang. He’s not alone, curiously enough, but instead is holding the elbow of a darkly-clad teenager with one hand, chatting excitedly to him as his eyes wander around the classroom. He catches Logan and Roman’s gazes, and waves energetically.

“Hi guys! This is Virgil. Virgil, this is Roman and Logan. Virgil’s new to the school and he sat with me at lunch.” Patton tells them, his voice laced with positive emotions while Logan carefully observes the individual his friend has placed before him. He can tell from Patton’s account that the boy was obviously sitting alone, for while Patton is friendly to the point of concern, he wouldn’t just attach himself to anyone without proper reason.

“Greetings, Virgil. I believe you were in my Advanced Placement American Literature class this morning.” He is affirmed in this belief by a nod from the boy, “There is a seat untaken behind myself, if you would prefer to remain seated next to Patton. Patton, Roman has secured a seat for you.” He notifies them both in turn.

“Aw, thanks Roman! You didn’t have to!” Patton says with particularly high volume, bouncing over and taking a seat behind Roman.

Roman smiles at him. “Of course I did, Pat! And hi, Virgil! Nice to see dad here picking up more kids. Him and mom here were going to smother me to death this year, I’m sure of it.” He says, also with too much volume, tilting his head slightly at one point during his greeting, and Logan realizes that he was doubtlessly referring to _him_ when he mentioned a mother.

“Excuse me, I am not your mother.” He tells him, “And lower your volume, we are in class.”

“But ma, the bell hasn’t even-”

The bells interrupts him off. Patton chuckles.

“Oh! Also, Logan, Virgil’s locker is right besides your’s I think. His last name is Corcoran. There’s no one between him and you, right?”

Logan thinks for a moment, “I do not believe so, unless another student has transferred who also has a similar name, which is unlikely. I am locker number 1-187.”

“Yeah, I’m the next one. 188.” Virgil says, his voice quieter than Roman or Patton’s. Logan spares half a moment to internally be grateful that Patton has not picked up someone with a similar energy as himself or Roman. That would have been rather difficult to deal with.

He nods to the teenager, before turning back in his seat to face forwards. It would be unbecoming of him if his first impression was him sitting improperly in his seat.

He does not do so too soon, as the teacher enters the room tiredly a few seconds later.

“Everyone, take your seats.” They order loudly, their voice carrying properly over the din of the classroom and their eyes focused on group of teenagers standing in the corner of the room, chatting idly. They comply, thankfully, and soon the teacher begins their introductions.

Roman and Patton make comments every so often, and Logan feels a new sense of gratefulness that he has a class with both of them. First days are rather boring, if necessary to begin the school year properly. They are dreadfully repetitive, but his friends’ presence lightens the burden significantly.

Virgil also makes a few muttered comments as well, and Logan believes them to be rather appropriate. They are certainly more bearable than Patton’s puns or Roman’s overused ‘jokes’ (they really only hardly qualify as such).

By the time that the class has ended, Logan has ascertained that Virgil will be benevolent addition to they small group.

Yes, Logan thinks to himself, he will be able to undertake this year properly. He is not alone, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> for clarity on one of Patton's jokes, Roman's last name is Kingsly. That's why he's a king rather than a prince.
> 
> My tumblr is mutemelody.tumblr.com talk to me there


End file.
